Chapter 50: Defeat?

Evening. A streetball court. The streetlights cast yellow pools of light on the asphalt. A handful of thugs gather across the court, while three players—Jen Ryu, Mei Yu, and Xiao Li—warm up on the court itself.

The ball thuds dully as it flies from one player to another, its rough surface already darkened by thousands of touches.

Jen Ryu catches the rebound, feeling the rubber stick to his sweaty palms. A sharp turn—and he hurls a pass to Xiao Li so hard that the latter catches it against his chest, gasping at the unexpected force: 

"Hey, quit showing off!" 

But Jen Ryu isn't listening anymore. He snatches the ball back, making it dance between his legs—left, right, the ball as if on an invisible string. Mei Yu lunges for a steal, but Jen abruptly accelerates, stepping back, and the ball arcs straight into his outstretched hand. 

"Watch this!" 

A burst of speed—and he's already under the hoop. His body stretches taut, his arm with the ball soaring upward—shot! The rim trembles, the net billows. 

"Ten in a row. Do you even know how to play?" 

Mei Yu wipes sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, leaving a dirty streak: 

"You wouldn't be talking so loud if we weren't in debt." 

Jen Ryu freezes. The ball sticks in his hands as he remembers why they're here. 

"Because of that motherfucker, we're still in the red..." 

"Mei Yu, you'd better not mention that name or our sorry situation around Jen," Xiao Li interjects, trying to calm his teammates. 

Jen Ryu slams the ball onto the asphalt so hard it bounces to the bench where Taek Jun sits, thumbing through a stack of bills. 

"Fucking brats! What the fuck are you doing?!" Taek Jun roars in rage, but a shadow falls over his face moments later. 

"Is this seat taken?" A calm voice sounds behind him. 

Taek Jun slowly lifts his gaze to a tall, athletic guy with short white hair. 

"Depends who's asking. For you? Maybe. But first—the bet." 

Kwan Soo tosses a thick wad of cash onto the table. 

"Here's mine." 

Taek Jun flips through the money, sorts the bills, and then pauses. 

"Hm. I remember you. Usually, we play for money. But you... have a different condition, don't you?" 

"If I win—they never step foot on this court again. Ever," Kwan Soo says coldly. Taek Jun bursts into laughter: 

"Ha-ha! Fine. But the bet's doubled." 

Kwan Soo pulls out another wad of cash and tosses it onto the pile. Taek Jun scowls but says nothing and turns to the referee, calling out loudly: 

"Sung Wo! Let's start!" 

The referee lazily rises and scans the crowd. Sung Wo steps onto the court and glances at Kwan Soo: 

"One against three, that okay?" 

"I'm enough." 

Jen Ryu is already at the line, fists clenched. His teammates gather at center court, but he looks down arrogantly at Kwan Soo: 

"You'll regret coming here." 

Kwan Soo doesn't answer. Instead, he steps to the center line opposite his opponents, and the referee, Sung Wo, with predatory eyes, tosses the ball up. 

Kwan Soo doesn't jump for it, so Jen Ryu grabs the ball and confidently dribbles. Kwan Soo stands like a statue. Jen fakes left—a sharp crossover. But Kwan Soo doesn't even flinch. Jen freezes, irritated: 

"What, you just gonna stand there like a tree?!" 

Kwan Soo ignores him, continuing to stand silently. 

"Heh, well then, lose!" Jen Ryu takes the shot.

The ball flies—but Kwan Soo suddenly leaps. His hand springs up—BAM! The ball sails out of bounds. Silence. 

"You play like you've got glass knees," Kwan Soo says in a low tone, making Jen Ryu grit his teeth. 

Mei Yu retrieves the ball from the out-of-bounds line, and Jen Ryu reaches for it. Mei passes it to him, and they retreat to the three-point line together. 

Kwan Soo stands calmly in his defensive zone. Jen Ryu dribbles, trying to distract: 

"Hey, white-hair, had enough of being a statue yet?" 

Kwan Soo doesn't even glance down. Jen clenches his jaw and makes a sharp pass to Mei Yu: 

"Let's take him down!" 

Mei Yu delivers a precise pass to Xiao Li, who catches it one-handed and accelerates toward the hoop. But Kwan Soo anticipates the move, positioning himself first. A hard collision—body against body. Xiao Li, unable to keep his balance, stumbles back, the ball stolen. 

Kwan Soo instantly spins and, without aiming, sinks a shot from mid-court. The ball arcs high and swishes cleanly through the net. The referee's whistle blows—two points counted. 

Jen Ryu curses under his breath: 

"Fuck! We can't stop him!" 

"Come on, Jen," Mei Yu slaps his back, and they silently take their positions under the hoop. 

Kwan Soo picks up the ball and leisurely dribbles toward the basket. Jen Ryu and Mei Yu close in, pressuring him, almost touching his back. Suddenly, Kwan Soo stops dead. 

Jen Ryu, unable to react in time, crashes into him and bounces off as if hitting a wall. Using the opening, Kwan Soo steps back, creating space for a shot. Without looking at the hoop, he lofts the ball over Jen Ryu's head in a high arc. 

"Huh?" Mei Yu blinks, followed by Jen Ryu: 

"What the fuck?" 

The ball drops cleanly through the net—nothing but net. 

"You fear contact. Basketball isn't for you," Kwan Soo says coldly to Mei Yu, who clenches his fists: 

"Fear contact? Don't make me laugh!" 

Kwan Soo ignores him and turns to retrieve the ball. Jen Ryu glares and mutters to his teammates: 

"Don't lose focus. We'll bounce back!" 

"You're right, we need to lock him down," Mei Yu agrees, and Xiao Li nods, sprinting to center court. 

Kwan Soo begins dribbling toward the center. All three defenders rush him at once, trying to steal the ball. At the last second, he hurls the ball at the backboard, using it for a self-pass. 

The ball slams against the backboard and rebounds high. Kwan Soo calculates the trajectory, leaps, catches it mid-air, and slams it through the rim with a powerful dunk. 

The rim shudders, the court trembling from the impact. The defenders, unable to stop, tumble onto the asphalt, helplessly watching. 

"Five—zero. Timeout," Sung Wo announces. 

Taek Jun gathers his players in a tight huddle, covering his mouth with his hand. 

"You motherfuckers, double-team that brute next play! Make him feel real pressure, not your weak slaps like girls!" 

The players nod silently, faces tense. Jen Ryu squeezes a water bottle, Mei Yu focuses, and Xiao Li gathers his strength. 

Behind the fence, in the shadows of the trees, Ming You watches motionlessly. His eyes analyze Kwan Soo's play: 

"Maybe my benchwarmers are just trash, but that doesn't make him weak. He's strong, even when holding back..." 

After a five-minute break, the game resumes. Xiao Li gets the ball and fakes a pass, then suddenly elbows Kwan Soo in the stomach—a cheap shot. 

Kwan Soo doesn't flinch, taking the hit without a sound. The ball slips from Xiao Li's grasp, and Kwan Soo snatches it, spins, and sinks a shot before anyone reacts. 

"You're weak even in cheap tricks." 

Jen Ryu clenches his fists, a mix of rage and despair. In the next play, he resorts to a rough tactic—charging into Kwan Soo's back to knock him down. 

But Kwan Soo, sensing danger, instantly crouches low. Jen Ryu, meeting no resistance, flips over his back. 

"Fuck!!!" 

He crashes hard, elbow slamming into the asphalt. Jen writhes in pain while Kwan Soo, without even turning, keeps control of the ball and calmly sinks a three-pointer. 

Sung Wo blows the whistle emotionlessly: 

"Eight—zero. Game over." 

Taek Jun stands, face twisted. Kwan Soo approaches the defeated trio and looks down at them: 

"People like you don't deserve to play basketball. Playing for dirty money is the worst insult to those who love this sport." 

The team glares at him. Jen Ryu wants to speak but is too consumed by anger and despair. 

Kwan Soo walks up to Taek Jun and says coolly, with a hint of arrogance: 

"Money." 

Taek Jun freezes. 

"You... you don't know who you're messing with." He shoves the two wads of cash back at Kwan Soo and glares at the losing team. 

Kwan Soo takes the money and leaves without counting it. Behind him, Jen Ryu shouts something furious, but he doesn't hear. 

... 

Ming You stood behind the trees. The court was lit by streetlights, but he remained in shadow. As Kwan Soo walked twenty meters away, Ming You silently followed, picking up a long log along the way. 

"I wonder if you can take a hit as well as you dribble."

Kwan Soo walked ahead, hands in his pockets, unaware as he headed home. 

Ming You quickened his pace, closing the gap. Three steps away, he gripped the log with both hands, aiming for the back of Kwan Soo's head. 

Kwan Soo didn't turn around. He kept walking calmly, hands still in his pockets. 

On the second step, Ming You tensed, ready to strike. 

The swing! 

The log whipped through the air— 

And then... 

"Hm?" Kwan Soo felt it. Not saw, not heard—felt the danger. His body reacted before his brain processed the threat. He spun sharply, his arm snapping up, and the log was knocked aside with a dull clang, ripped from Ming You's grip by the force of the counter. 

"Huh—?" Ming You's mind raced. His muscles coiled for the next move, options flashing through his brain. 

Kwan Soo now stood in a fighting stance: knees slightly bent, one foot forward for balance, fists guarding his face. His narrowed eyes tried to make out the features behind Ming You's medical mask. 

"A hired thug?" Kwan Soo's voice was low and steady, no trace of fear. "Taek Jun send you?" 

No answer. Instead—action. 

Ming You jerked his head down, the mask slipping briefly to reveal thin lips stretched in an unnatural grin. Then—a spit. 

Precise, aimed straight at Kwan Soo's right eye. 

"Tear gland. Reflexive eye closure—0.3 seconds. Enough time." 

Kwan Soo flinched involuntarily, his eyelid slamming shut. Ming You lunged, fingers splayed like claws, aiming for the throat—specifically the cartilage shielding the windpipe. 

"Crush it. Cut off air. Shock. Disorientation. Victory." 

But Kwan Soo was faster than expected. 

His powerful body leaned back with surprising grace, and Ming You's hand swiped empty air. 

The counter came instantly—Kwan Soo's knee shot up like a spring, slamming into Ming You's solar plexus. 

"Ghk!" The air blasted from Ming You's lungs. Sharp pain seared through his stomach, muscles spasming. 

His cap flew off, but he didn't fall. Instead, his fingers clawed the ground, grabbing a handful of dirt and pebbles. 

"Dirt, dust, sharp debris. Perfect." 

Kwan Soo stepped forward, ready to strike again, but Ming You was quicker. A sharp flick of his wrist flung the debris into Kwan Soo's face. 

"You—!" 

The particles stabbed his eyes, clogged his nostrils, stuck to his lips. 

"A normal person would clutch their face, but you're far from normal." 

Kwan Soo's body knew what to do—he leaped back, out of range. 

But Ming You gave no respite. He rushed in, trying to clinch and negate Kwan Soo's striking power. 

"If I can't hit him, I'll take away his advantage." 

Even blinded, Kwan Soo sensed the movement. His elbow shot up, crashing into Ming You's nose with brutal force. 

Crack. 

Sharp pain exploded in Ming You's face. Hot blood gushed from his nose, soaking the mask and dripping to the ground. 

"Nose broken. Harder to breathe. But I won't back down." 

Ming You didn't stop. His fingers shot forward again—this time toward Kwan Soo's eyes. 

But Kwan Soo was ready. His fist rocketed up, knuckles nearly shattering Ming You's fingers. 

"Too slow. Need something else." 

Then Ming You pulled the dirtiest move of all. His knee jerked up—straight into Kwan Soo's groin. 

"Argh!" Kwan Soo doubled over but didn't fall. 

His fist, fueled by rage, shot out—straight for Ming You's throat. Ming You barely dodged, but— 

A dull thud. 

Kwan Soo's forehead smashed into his face. 

"Ghk—!" Sparks flashed in Ming You's vision, pain splitting his skull. 

But instead of retreating, Ming You did the unexpected. He yanked his mask down and bit into Kwan Soo's wrist, aiming for the artery. 

"Tear it open—blood will pour. He'll weaken." 

"You damn rat!" Kwan Soo yanked his arm free, and the mask slipped completely off Ming You's face. 

Their eyes met. Blood. Dirt. Fury in Kwan Soo's gaze, icy emptiness in Ming You's. He grinned, showing bloodied teeth. 

"You..." Kwan Soo's eyes narrowed. "That bastard from the stadium." 

Ming You smirked, wiping blood from his lips. 

"So what?" 

"Did you attack other players like this too, you bastard?!" 

"Heh, you're the only one who caught my eye—well, the only one Taek Jun sent me after." Ming You's grin widened. Kwan Soo clenched his fists, glaring into his hollow eyes: 

"A pathetic, spineless coward. You can't even fight fair." 

Ming You laughed outright: 

"Ha-ha-ha, fair? What, your principles gonna help when I stab a knife in your kidney?" 

Kwan Soo spat on the ground. 

"You're just a weakling, a nobody trembling in the shadows. You don't even realize how blind and helpless you are. You think strength is fists, weapons, harsh words, or blind stubbornness? No. You don't understand true strength. It's in willpower, in unshakable spirit, in crushing obstacles—not just outside, but inside yourself. And you... you're not even close. You're weak. And you know the worst part? You don't even feel it. That empty stare—no, dead stare—you're the saddest sight I've ever seen." 

"Heh, you talk too much." Ming You straightened. "But let's test it. Let's play." 

"What are you babbling about?" 

"Streetball. You and me. We'll see whose way is better—and maybe you'll preach to me about this 'strength' you keep yapping about." 

Kwan Soo paused for a second, then smirked. 

"Fine, bastard. But if I win—you never step on a basketball court or touch a ball again." 

"Heh, we'll see about that. In that case, you skip the inter-school tournament and quit basketball." 

"If I lose to someone like you, I'll quit without you asking." Kwan Soo crossed his arms. "But that won't happen. I accept the bet." 

Ming You grinned and jerked his thumb toward the streetball court behind him: 

"Then let's make it official and start the game."